I Want You To Fight
by swaggercaptain
Summary: "A man, who doesn't fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets," she parroted his favorite saying and it forced him to pause, though he didn't turn around. She spoke again, her voice growing louder and breaking, "and you've stopped fighting for me! You stopped fighting the minute he came back. You gave up, Killian Jones!" (Captain Swan One-Shot)


**__A birthday gift for Adriane (aka. swanspirate) - has not been beta'd, in fact it's quite off-the-cuff so forgive any mistakes. I am to reviews what bees are to honey (do we like the analogy? no. okay).**

**_I Want You To Fight_**

The coolness of the air made gooseflesh erupt across the skin on his arms, despite the fact it was covered by the warm leather of his signature jacket. His eyes searched the horizon for nothing in particular, perhaps even trying for an answer to the thoughts swarming his mind. The past month had been eventful to say the least and the calm should have been comforting. The only problem was that with calm came the opportunity to think, and Killian didn't particularly want to brood over what had happened in the past month. Being on the move had made him immune to such reflection, but now he had undisturbed time to himself.

A month ago, Henry had been sent to Neverland by Tamara and Greg; two people that Killian had deigned to align himself with. However, the involvement of the Swan girl's child had instantaneously broken their alliance – an action he had gone through with under the pretext of having a moral issue with compromising children. And, since the pirate was the only one in possession of a realm traversing ship, he had immediately, albeit distrustfully, been inducted into the Charming's mission team to save the young lad.

Of course, it hadn't been that simple – Emma's beloved parents had taken _a lot_ of convincing – but regardless he had been received. And only a day after the young boy's disappearance, Killian, Emma, her parents, Regina and begrudgingly Gold, had boarded the Jolly Roger on a journey to the place where nobody aged and everything was seemingly innocent. The unassuming nature of everything lended to its danger; only Killian had truly known the deceiving nature of the beautiful land because of his history.

Somewhere in between fighting the vicious mermaids and spiteful fairies, and scouring the island for the Lost Boys (who had adopted Henry with open arms), the dynamic between Emma and Killian had changed. There was a semblance of trust between them now that hadn't been there before. Nevertheless, that wasn't what alarmed the pirate, it was the warmth beginning to blossom in the deepest parts of his being that made him wary. He had always been intrigued by the blonde with the unfathomable internal scarring but this was something entirely different and he couldn't describe it. She infuriated him with her stubbornness and inability to look out for her safety and yet he had thrown himself in front of her numerous times in Neverland. She matched his every word with equal wit and intelligence, she fought with him more often than she spoke to him and their interactions were constantly plagued by underlying subtext.

Throughout their entire journey though, he had slowly become more fascinated by every facet of her. He wanted to know her, and he would never admit it – pride was a powerful thing.

It was one of the main sources of hostility when Neal had somehow found his way to Neverland. The reunion between the Swan girl and the father of her child had been strangely crushing for the pirate. It wasn't as if he'd never experienced having affection for a taken woman but it was the fact that he had once been optimistic that made it hurt tenfold; like a candle-light being blown out on a dead winter's night. Furthermore, Emma hadn't precisely renewed her relationship with the man but having him back brought a little more light to her eyes. Her determination to seek out Henry had been renewed and it helped.

When Henry had been found, Killian realised very quickly that there would never be a world where there could be anything real between him and the saviour. She was everything he was not; honest and selfless. More importantly, something that had become evidently crystal clear with Henry's return was the extent of Neal's involvement. The man, despite having committed some abominable treacheries against Emma, was still the boy's father and had a connection with the woman that the pirate did not. They had known each other longer and it seemed inevitable in Killian's eyes that they would resurrect their relationship – even if it was mostly for the benefit of their son.

That realisation had hit him on the way back from Neverland, when he overheard Henry talking to his mother about Neal. Killian didn't usually eavesdrop but when it came to Emma he happened to unintentionally let go of a lot of his ideals. Regardless, it was obvious from their conversation that the kid wanted his family – and who was Killian to deny her that?

Killian hadn't spoken to her properly since they'd gotten Henry; more specifically, since he'd witnessed the great big family hug that excluded him. Sure, they had conversed briefly on the journey home but it wasn't right – it had felt strained and unfamiliar. And so upon reaching Storybrooke, the pirate had decided to avoid her altogether. It had been a week.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the salty sea air that was faintly comforting. Killian let his body fall slightly forward so he leant against the banister of the ship, looking down at the waves caressing the Jolly Roger's side. And then he made a decision.

8888

She hadn't seen him in a week. It had been an entire seven days of periodically checking her surroundings for his presence and coming up empty. The disappointment would bloom silently in her chest and the resilient side of her would shove it down into the depths of her stomach, her mind all the while warring with her defensive instincts; insisting she should just seek him out. But if there was one thing that Emma struggled with, it was pride.

She wanted to go to him and demand why he wouldn't speak to her, but the war between her head and her heart had been lost long ago when a man had earned her trust and squandered it carelessly. And so, Emma continued her daily life, ignoring the background music that was her paranoia to locate Hook. She would get up in the morning, get Henry to school and go to work for eight hours before returning home for dinner and retiring to bed; this, she did for a week. Up until the eighth day when a phone call at the station gave her the opportunity she had been subconsciously begging for.

"Emma?" a gruff voice asked as she picked up the receiver. It sounded like Grumpy.

"Leroy?" Emma replied, absentmindedly signing forms and filing them in her out-tray.

"I think you need to come down to the docks," he said and the blonde's head snapped up. Her attention was almost immediately piqued at the notion she might have to travel down there and 'risk' running into the pirate.

"What's going on?" she asked, feigning disinterest. He sighed and took a moment to reply.

"It's probably nothing, I just – it looks like Hook's preparing for something. He's been moving around the ship a lot this morning and I just thought you should know just in case he's planning to do something. I mean, Snow told me he changed a lot over in Neverland but you never know, right?" Leroy said and she could imagine him running a nervous hand over his bald head. Emma stood up, plucking her badge and gun and making her way towards the door. She didn't understand why, but she felt a niggling sensation at the distrust that was evident in the man's tone as he spoke about the pirate. Hook had been one of the driving forces behind their rescue of Henry – risking life and limb in a manner of circumstances just to help them. And for what purpose? He had received no personal gain from assisting them and it had evidently had no effect on the town's misconceptions of him.

"Emma?" Leroy asked, drawing her from her thoughts and causing her to unceremoniously drop the phone on the floor. She picked it up hastily, frowning and replying.

"I'll be right there," she said rapidly, hanging up and jumping into the yellow Volkswagen parked outside the station.

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The sound of wooden boards squeaking under something's weight alarmed Killian to someone behind him. He looked up towards the sky; there were only a few options as to who it could be. As he turned around, he closed his eyes and put into place the smirk that had become second-nature in front of people he deemed unwelcome on his ship; hiding behind pleasantries was routine nowadays.

However, when Killian turned around, it wasn't who he might have expected to board his ship. Standing next to the main mast, hands in her pockets, blonde hair flailing in the sea breeze, was Emma. Killian's smile faltered at the surprise of seeing her but was swiftly put back into place.

"Hook," she said, eyeing him almost nervously.

"Morning love," he replied good-naturedly, circling her so he stood near the stairs leading so the Quarterdeck. The pirate leaned against the banister lazily as he waited for her to continue speaking. Killian watched her carefully, letting the façade slowly drop as the tension seemed to imperceptibly invade the air. Rather than let himself fall into the trap of studying her – something he had gotten into a habit of doing while in Neverland – he inspected his metal appendage with feigned interest.

Emma finally opened her mouth to speak, a closed-off expression marring her features, "Leroy told me you've been busying yourself on deck. What's going on?"

Killian raised an eyebrow mockingly, "Still think I'm secretly plotting to destroy you, Swan?" he asked sarcastically although he was sure at least a fraction of hurt flashed in his eyes. It was obvious that she registered the emotion when her expression softened fractionally.

"No, I'm just curious as to what you're doing," she reiterated, motioning around the ship. Killian looked around and smiled mirthlessly, he didn't know what her reaction would be when he told her. He paused for a moment before sighing and meeting her gaze.

"I'm packing up; leaving as it were," he finally said and Emma's face contorted in shock.

"What?" she said, unceremoniously walking towards him demanding answers "What do you mean, you're leaving?" He wouldn't deny that he was surprised to see her so concerned by the news. But the image of her and her little picturesque family sobered the consideration threatening to show on his face. The mental picture of her and Neal flashed behind his lids every time he blinked, forcing ice through his nerves and bitterness to lace his words.

"I'm sure you're despairing at the thought, love," he retorted, uncharacteristically sharp.

"Did I do something to piss you off?" Emma snapped, her guard rising with every harsh response he uttered. Killian moved up to the Quarterdeck and she followed quickly behind him, her eyebrows furrowing in anger when he refused to reply. He moved to the helm and she walked alongside him.

"Why are you leaving, Hook?" she asked again in a firm voice that demanded his attention. He finally looked at her, humorless amusement written across his features.

"Because I'm not needed anymore, I'm going to go and see what this world has to offer," he said, gesturing the open sea that lay in the distance.

Emma scoffed, "What? Without getting your revenge?"

"I made the decision before leaving Neverland that my quarrel with the crocodile was over. It took up too much of my time and cost me too much – thus I have no purpose here and subsequently, I have chosen to depart before I change my mind," he snapped indignantly. The blonde watched him for any signs that he was lying, finding no hint of untruth in his stony expression. Silence descended on them and he walked around her to move back on to the main deck, once again she followed him. Silence still enveloping the Jolly Roger, save for the creak of the wooden deck under their weight and the lapping of the waves against the ship, Emma paused. Eventually, though, she found the words she'd wanted to speak since the day he'd stopped speaking to her.

"You've been avoiding me," she said firmly, "Why?" Her voice made it sound as if the notion hurt her. Killian looked out at the water, unable to look at her face as he spoke.

"I haven't been avoiding you, lass. I've simply not been seeking you out," he retorted and glanced at her. Emma moved forward again, her face unreadable as she stared at him.

"What's up with you, Hook? Ever since we saved Henry, you've been acting like –"

"Like what?" Killian snapped, his gaze fixing onto her with such intensity that it took her off guard, "How am I supposed to treat you, Swan? Like a friend? That would require trust and you've never trusted me." His eyes burned into her and her expression changed, within a second her previously indecipherable face became one of resentment.

"Are you serious?" she breathed angrily, stepping closer to him. Killian abruptly started walking towards the opposite end of the ship. He couldn't be near her; he couldn't handle her proximity when he _knew_ there would never be anything more than amiability between them. And even that was not something he could grip – hence, the hostility he was spurring. Killian could feel her following him and refused to turn as he walked.

"Hook, what the hell is going on?" she spoke louder and her voice was closer this time. Killian finally turned around to face her voice and was slightly blindsided by the sudden closeness with which she stood. Her boots were touching the toes of his own and their faces were separated by an inch. Emma's blue-grey eyes met him unyieldingly and he felt the air between them thicken.

"Nothing – "

"You've been avoiding me –"

"Don't flatter yourself, love" Killian retorted icily. Her lips formed a thin line as she scrutinised him, watching for any signs that would hint at the reason for his current temperament.

"Remember that little talent I have? I can tell when you're lying," she said defiantly, her breath warming his lips. He watched her carefully, crystalline blue eyes burning into hers and reading with ease the guarded feelings there.

"Remember _my_ little talent? I can read you too and I say you're a little too invested for my liking. Therefore, I would kindly appreciate it if you walked your pretty little boots off my ship before I set sail with you still on board," he said. Truthfully, he didn't want her to go – he wanted her to fight and he wanted to fight but it was easier this way. If he left, she could have her happy little family and never have to worry about him lurking around the corner with a bucket-full of innuendos. Moreover, he might actually stand a chance at closure because God knew he was likely to grow wings before that happened in her presence.

Emma's face became unreadable in the moment following his demand and he waited patiently for her to turn around and leave, as he expected she would. Seconds passed and her eyes searched his, registering something before he could comprehend that he'd let his façade slip and his emotions show. All at once, her expression became furious and he was surprised by the underpinning of hurt that was like lacework beneath her eyes.

"You're giving up," she growled, glaring at him.

Killian was taken off-guard by the comment and sudden change in her demeanour; conversing with Emma had always given him whiplash but today was especially jolting. She stepped back angrily and strode in the direction of the mast before whipping around again and pointing a finger at the pirate.

"You're giving up! After everything – all the innuendos, all the desperate pleas for me to trust you – you're just running away!" she spat.

"I am not running away," Killian returned, walking forward and staring her down with conviction. Her words implied he was a coward, her eyes implied he was something else altogether. The insight with which she appeared to scrutinise him bothered him, and Killian found himself looking for a deflection. "Besides, why would it bother you? Shouldn't you be relieved that you won't have to deal with me anymore?"

"Because I finally started trusting you, Killian!" The words left her mouth before she could filter them and it showed on her face just how much of an opening she'd just exposed to him. Emma's eyelids fluttered rapidly as she tried desperately to think of something to repel the thoughts undoubtedly entering Killian's mind.

He frowned and surprised himself when he spoke, "That doesn't change anything."

"It changes everything!" Emma replied, finding herself marginally horrified that her vocal chords seemed to acting of their own accord, expressing her thoughts without concern for the repertoire of consequences.

"Why should it? It's not going to make a difference to anything here," he hissed, the subtext involving Neal almost outright. The saviour groaned in irritation, looking skyward as if praying for assistance from some Deity. She looked back down at him, eyes narrowed angrily.

"Let's not toe the line; you're angry because, with Neal back, you think you haven't got a shot in hell," Emma said. Killian barked a laugh, and clapped his hands together mockingly.

"Well, there we have it – you officially meet all the criteria for a princess; painfully beautiful and deceivingly arrogant," he answered coldly, but she would have none of it.

"Don't give me that bullshit, you're running away despite you're most revered motto, Jones."

"Okay, we're going to be honest? How about the fact that as soon as _he_ returned, you wouldn't let yourself be alone with me unless someone was within eye-shot? Or about the fact that you admitted to your son that things were different between you and he since his near-death experience?"

Emma took a step back, "Were you eavesdropping on me and my son?"

Killian shook his head, pointing an accusing finger at her, "Don't avoid the question, Swan. You want to know why I'm leaving?" he dropped his hand and studied her face, his eyes softening for a split second before freezing over, "Because I've decided it's not worth the fight." He walked around her and headed for the Quarterdeck, simply trying to put as much space between them before she would inevitably turn around and leave.

He'd reached the first step when her voice called out to him in an angry and half-broken yell.

"A man, who doesn't fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets," she parroted his favourite saying and it forced him to pause, though he didn't turn around. She spoke again, her voice growing louder and breaking, "and you've stopped fighting for me! You stopped fighting the minute he came back. You gave up, Killian Jones!"

He looked over his shoulder, curious to see her expression. It was, for the first time he'd ever witnessed, openly hurt. There were no walls as she stared at his form, broken and angry and wounded. Killian didn't reply, he found no words despite the plethora of things he wanted to say. So, she took it as an opportunity to continue.

"You want to know why I didn't want to be around you?" she called out, "Because you changed the second he came aboard. You wouldn't look at me straight and that bloody hurt, Killian. After spending six months in a land where I was all but forced to put the lives of my family in your hands, you shunned me. And I was never going to let you see that it affected me – and if we were alone, it would have been obvious to you. Because you can read me – and I hate that! I hate that I have no defences against you!"

Killian turned around fully, unsure of what to do.

"I wasn't lying when I told Henry things had changed – because they had. Before Neal left, I was nearly absolutely sure I would never get over him, that I loved him. It took losing him for me to admit that and for me to forgive him. But then you waltzed in, all smug and clad in leather like a fucking archangel and you made me question everything!" She paused, waiting for him to reply and cocking her head to the side when he didn't. She shook her head and decided to proceed, "Things have changed between Neal and me – but I am not _in love_ with him."

Killian strode forward and, without hesitance, his lips crashed into hers. His good hand found the back of her neck while his other arm snaked around her waist, securing her firmly against his chest. The odd thing was that he found her lips meeting his every move, reciprocating every manoeuvre with equal fervour. She was kissing him back. Her hands moved up to tangle in his raven hair and he found himself pushing her backwards until they reached the mast.

They finally pulled apart and he looked at her, his arm pulling back from her waist although his hand still held the back of her neck firmly. Her hands slid down from where they had tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck and stayed flat against his chest. Both their breathing was ragged and he frowned despite the parade of emotions within him.

She seemed to be concentrating too and her eyes met his.

"I can't be selfish with you," he said quietly, his breath reaching her lips. It was his explanation, his excuse and reasoning despite the moment they had just shared. And he was pulling away.

"No," Emma said firmly, gripping his forearm with one hand and staring determinedly into his eyes, "I don't care if you think it makes you a bad person, I want you to fight for me. I'm not in love with Neal and to be honest, I'm not sure what this is but…" her voice drifted off, unsure how to continue.

Killian watched her carefully, weighing up his options and gaging her temperament within the space of three seconds. He stopped trying to pull away, instead moving closer to lean his forehead against hers. She slid her hands up to grip his face as it stayed nose-to-nose with her own, simply basking in the knowledge that he was silently giving in. Killian let his hand move to the small of her back as his other arm wound its way around her waist.

They didn't know what this meant for them, they didn't know how to define their relationship. But, she needed him more than she would ever permit herself to admit. And he yearned for her to such a degree that he nearly despised it. Except, combined, it created the sort of bond that could not be easily undone or damaged.

Slowly, Emma leaned in again and their lips met, this time taking more care as they drank in each other's presence. Killian found himself inadvertently smirking against her lips and she pulled back to narrow her eyes at him.

"I swear to God, if you make an innuendo I'm walking right off this ship," she threatened. The pirate shook his head, though the smirk remained, even as he leaned down again to kiss her.


End file.
